


When All the Light’s Gone

by Delen



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delen/pseuds/Delen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of The Force Awakens, Luke returns to the Resistance and tries to rebuild his life there.  But can one man, Jedi or not, bear the weight of the whole galaxy by himself?</p><p>(Title taken from the song "Parachute" by Isac Elliot feat. Satin Circus)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A small group stood in the early morning light, watching two ships complete their landing maneuvers.  The larger ship, a beat-up Corellian freighter, groaned towards the hangar bay at the far end, while the smaller ship, a single-pilot starfighter, settled outside not far from the assembled group. 

 

Luke Skywalker surveyed them from the cockpit of his X-wing as he listened to the engines power down, removed his gloves, removed his helmet, completed a final systems check.  He was only partly stalling, he told himself.  The fighter hadn’t flown in years.  Luke had been surprised it started at all when Rey came to bring him home.  He just wanted to make sure it cooled down properly, that was all; check that no new problems had arisen on the journey here.  Wherever here was.  He had accepted the flight plan Rey sent to him almost blindly, following her across the galaxy in a numb haze somewhere between shock and relief so immense it physically ached. 

 

Rey.  He wished he could face this group with her by his side, but she had to set the Falcon down in the hangar bay reserved for larger ships; fighter jets were parked on the tarmac, ready for action in a moment’s notice.  She wasn’t far, but the small crowd stood between him and her.  He had grown fond of the little womp rat in the small time they had spent together.  She was a survivor and a warrior, and she had moxie enough not only to find him in his self-imposed exile but to convince him to return almost willingly.  He smiled at the memory. 

 

For now, though, he had to disembark from this fighter and face the music.  Or the crowd, as the case may be.  He was half surprised there wasn’t music.  It would have been like Leia to arrange a full scale ticker-tape parade out of spite.  She knew he disliked crowds, but he reckoned she disliked being abandoned for years. 

 

He sighed.  The fighter was fully powered down now, and in the resulting quiet he could hear the murmuring of the crowd.  It was now or never.  He considered the repercussions of powering back up and taking off again.

 

The cockpit canopy opened with a soft hiss, and Luke swung a leg out to the ladder which an attendant had rushed over and placed for him almost before the fighter had touched down.  In his musing, he hadn’t realized the poor girl had been waiting dutifully next to it this entire time.  He mustered a smiled for her and nodded his thanks as he stepped off. 

 

She smiled back at him eagerly and perhaps a bit sympathetically.  “Welcome home, sir,” she ventured quietly. 

 

Luke took a deep breath, tasting the air, and found the metallic tang of this base did feel something like home.  “Thank you,” he told her, his smile turning more genuine. 

 

Excitement radiated off her, and he carefully schooled his features as she became suddenly flustered, unsure of his specific rank and whether she should salute or bow or what exactly.  She opted for a movement that was part bow, part nod, and part wave, grabbing the ladder and rushing away. 

 

He chuckled softly as she left, and something dark deep in his chest brightened ever so slightly.  He turned and strode steadily toward the waiting crowd.

 

***

 

General Leia Organa Solo could only marvel as she watched her brother fiddling with whatever he could find in his fighter.  She could feel the emotions seeping from him in waves, had felt them ever since he and Rey had come out of hyperspace.  Anxiety.  Regret.  Guilt.  She was thankful at least that despair was not among them.  A brooding Luke she could handle, could talk some sense into, but when the sadness consumed him, there was nothing to do but let him ride it and come out the other side.  That was why she hadn’t gone after him when he left after the new Academy was destroyed; she had known there was nothing she could do for him except give him time and space.  She just hadn’t expected him to need so much of either.

 

The map had given her hope.  Luke wouldn’t have left such a thing behind if he didn’t want to be found, and he had trusted the Force to deliver it into their hands when the time was right.  She wondered if even he had known how long he would be gone.

 

And now he was back.  She smiled to herself as he sat in the cockpit of his fighter, obviously stalling.  She considered taking pity on him, sending the small group away, then decided it would do him good to be reminded that he was wanted and missed.  She had let only a few come: Threepio, who waited for Artoo as much if not more fervently than to see Master Luke; Finn, who did the same for Rey; a medical aide; a few others Luke had been somewhat close to before.  And of course, Commander Poe Dameron.  She glanced over as they waited and caught Poe’s eye.  He grinned and nodded conspiratorially.  She took a deep breath and turned to watch her brother approach.

 

***

 

The crowd was mercifully kind.  Kinder, Luke knew, than he probably deserved, and genuinely so.  He didn’t need the Force to sense how relieved and pleased everyone present was to see him.  And if he was honest, Luke was pleased to see them, too. 

 

He was even more pleased that they dispersed quickly.  Threepio, effervescent as ever, assailed him with unfinished sentences before transferring his excited attention to Artoo when the little astromech droid rolled up with Rey and Chewbacca not far behind.  The recovering stormtrooper, Finn, was intriguing, and Luke resolved to speak with him properly at a better time.  Finn had eyes only for Rey, and Luke smiled at their innocent and open affection.  Even old Admiral Ackbar was there, placing a cool hand on his shoulder and regarding him with ancient eyes. 

 

The biggest surprise was Poe.  Out of everyone, even Leia, Luke expected Poe Dameron to be the most angry with him.  When Poe held back while the others rushed forward to greet him, Luke’s stomach sank interestingly, but he just blamed it on the lengthy journey through hyperspace after years on the ground, as he accepted the others’ welcomes and claps on the back.  Poe lingered near the fringes, watching Luke with a strange expression on his face, but as the others drifted away, leaving more space, Poe finally approached.  He stood at arm’s length, just looking at Luke, as if memorizing the details of his face.  Luke’s heart couldn’t seem to stop flipping over, there wasn’t enough air, and his brow crinkled under the intensity of Poe’s gaze.  Luke wondered if his eyes conveyed everything that he didn’t and would probably never have the words for.  He decided that they must when Poe suddenly closed the last of the distance between them and embraced him for all he was worth.  Luke didn’t think, couldn’t, just threw his arms around the other man and hugged him back. 

 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Poe muttered into Luke’s hair before finally pulling back.  Luke offered a watery smile in apology, still unable to speak around the lump in his throat. 

 

Then Leia was there.  Oh, Leia.  If he didn’t have words for Poe, how could he ever have them for his sister?  But, he realized, for her he didn’t need them.  Her eyes said everything: relief, gratitude, the inevitable touch of annoyance.  Luke closed his eyes against the tears starting to form.  He half wished she would rail at him, scream about the hell that was the last ten years; her anger would almost be easier to face than her love, and he certainly deserved it more.  But that wasn’t her way, so he sank into the warmth she offered, and the darkness deep in his chest lightened just a little more.

 

“You and I will talk later, once you’ve settled in,” she advised.  “Right now,” she wrinkled her nose and her eyes sparkled with humor, “you need a wash.”

 

Luke thought about arguing but knew she was right, and the thought of an actual shower with heated water and everything sounded like heaven.  Chewie barked his agreement with Leia, although when Leia suggested he was one to talk, he suddenly remembered some very important repairs the Falcon needed and practically ran towards the hangar. 

 

Luke thought he saw Leia nod to Poe as they walked towards the quarters block, and Poe slipped off in the direction of Luke’s X-wing.  Luke laughed to himself, thinking Poe was no doubt itching to see what sort of disrepair Luke had let the fighter fall into.  Then all he could think about was his sister at his side and the promise of that hot shower.  It all felt very surreal.  After ten years, he was home.

 

***

 

Heated water rained down over Luke’s face and shoulders, and he let the warmth seep into his muscles gratefully.  He leaned a hand against the cool, tiled wall of the shower stall and sighed, feeling like the water washed away energetic grime as well as the physical.  His connection to the Force felt less muddied than before, as if a fog he hadn’t even noticed had lifted.  He always forgot how easily his perception altered when he was alone, without being grounded by the perspective of others.  Leia always remembered and drew him gently back to reality when he got too wrapped up in himself, when he let her. 

 

When the steam became too thick to see, he turned the water off and stepped out, reached for a towel.  He turned and was startled to see an old man across the room, then let out a sigh when he realized it was only a mirror.  He studied the graying hair and sad eyes for a moment, frowning.  When had he grown so old?  In his mind’s eye, he would always be the young man in a white tunic who lived on a desert wasteland of a planet.  He smiled at the thought of his homeworld.  (He could smile now at Tatooine; the years had at least given him that.)  His memory now was filled less with the unhappy dissatisfaction of youth as it was with fondness for the fleeting moments that actually mattered: the incomparably unappetizing smell of Aunt Beru’s cooking; Uncle Owen teaching him some finer point of mechanics; the unexpected beauty of a binary sunset. 

 

How far he had come from those days.  He wondered if he would still have been so eager to leave with Obi-Wan if he had known then what the price would be.

 

A slight shift in energy told him Leia had returned and waited for him in the next room.  He sighed, found a soft robe and tied it on, and went out to face her.

 

Leia sat on one of the cushioned chairs in the quarters she said were his now, feet tucked up underneath her, and holding a steaming mug of something that smelled startlingly familiar. 

 

“Is that kaffe?”  Luke actually gawked.  He couldn’t help it. 

 

Leia nodded, taking a sip and laughing at his expression.  “There’s a fresh pot and mugs in the kitchenette.”  She pointed towards the far side of the room.  “Careful,” she cautioned as Luke strode over eagerly.  “After so long, the first cup may hit you pretty hard.  We don’t need a rogue Jedi Master bouncing off the walls,” she teased. 

 

Luke made a face at her, but obligingly poured only a small amount into the pale blue mug he chose, savoring the smell as he returned to where Leia was and took a seat on the chair next to hers. 

 

“So.”  Luke fidgeted with his mug.  Leia simply waited, a calm expression on her face, knowing he would speak when he was ready. 

 

Luke opened and shut his mouth several times, searching among the many words that needed to be said for the right ones.  Finally, he looked up at her.  “I’m sorry.  I never meant to stay away for so long.”

 

Leia’s expression softened even more.  “I know.  When Ben—”  Luke flinched at the name, and Leia frowned.  “Well, it’s his name,” she scolded gently.  “I won’t deign to call him whatever nonsense he chooses to call himself now.”  She waved a hand distastefully and then started again.  “When you left, none of us blamed you.  I knew you would need some time to recover, and I knew you needed to do that alone, much as I would have rather had you here.  Han threatened to go after you about twice a cycle,” she smiled at the memory, “but he knew you needed time, too.  I think everyone respected your choice, even if they didn’t understand it.”  She smiled again, mischievous this time.  “Well, mostly everyone.  Poe was rather upset.” 

 

Luke sputtered into his mug of kaffe, and Leia cackled.  Luke scowled at her but quickly schooled his features impassively.  “How… how has he been?” he asked carefully.

 

Leia rolled her eyes.  “He was miserable to be around at first.  I’ve never seen such moping in my life, except maybe from you,” she added pointedly.  Luke chose to take another sip of kaffe to avoid replying.  Leia smiled, then turned serious.  “He was hurt, I think.  He was young, but even then he understood you couldn’t talk to him about… what happened.  He was just angry you didn’t even say goodbye.”

 

Luke closed his eyes.  “If I had, I never would have left.”

 

Leia reached for his hand, and he opened his eyes.  “I know,” was all she said.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The days blurred into weeks blurred into months. 

 

At first Luke’s days and nights were spent with Leia in the command center, catching up on current events, mind-numbing politics, and all manner of dreadfulness.  There was always some crisis, always another mission or twelve to coordinate, always something. 

 

As much as the constant urgency in the air grated on Luke, like a pebble lodged in a boot, he couldn’t help being impressed by the calm efficiency of the operations staff.  No matter the request, they analyzed the information and projected courses of action almost quicker than the droids.  Luke helped however he could, using Force cognition to narrow down search results, mapping infiltration strategies for covert teams, sometimes just bringing fresh cups of kaffe to the current shift. 

 

The only information he never saw were details of Poe’s missions, and that was only because Leia refused to let him near them, muttering something about over-protective husbands coddling her best pilots.  Luke decided he didn’t mind.  He feared for Poe more than he would openly admit, but he was also proud of him and trusted him to execute his missions without his meddling.

 

When he wasn’t in the command center with Leia, Luke trained with Rey.  The latter was infinitely preferable.  Rey was a quick study and brought a calm steadiness to their sessions that Luke almost envied.  There were few Jedi texts or study tools left now, so he taught her from memory and let her own inquisitiveness and intuition guide their pace.  (On one memorable occasion he even convinced her to carry him on her back around the complex, but she soon rebelled when he began laughing uncontrollably and inverting his sentence structure without explanation.)  He found he enjoyed their lessons, even though they occasionally triggered less than pleasant memories for him.  Rey seemed to understand and always gave him space on those days, for which he grew all the more fond of her.

 

Sometimes the recovering stormtrooper Finn visited them, sitting quietly off to one side of the small courtyard they had repurposed as a meditation space.  Rey never let Finn’s presence distract her, so Luke allowed the visits without comment.  He even came to enjoy talking with Finn himself while Rey practiced various Force control techniques, though he half feared the young man wouldn’t return after Rey levitated him one afternoon.

 

He saw Poe only infrequently, but through no fault of his own for once, given the pilot’s heavy mission load and Luke’s own responsibilities to Rey.  Every now and again they caught sight of each other across the crowded mess hall or when Poe came to deliver his reports to Leia, and each time the world narrowed to a small point, as if they were the only two people in the galaxy.  Poe would nod and flash a blinding smile before carrying on with whatever he was doing, and Luke would always be surprised to find a too bright grin plastered on his own face when he looked away.  Leia just rolled her eyes at them both.

 

***

 

The sun had drifted low in the sky the day Luke finally worked up the courage to knock at Poe’s quarters.  He shifted nervously from foot to foot outside the door and weighed the indignity of fleeing.  He brushed at non-existent dirt on his trousers, straightened his collar, silently cursed his life choices  Then the door opened, Poe’s surprised and delighted grin filled his vision, and the other man wrapped him in an exuberant hug before he could even cross the threshold. 

 

“I’m so glad you came by,” Poe assured him and ushered Luke inside before he could ask if it was alright that he had come.  Luke smiled and mentally chided himself for worrying.  Poe poured two mugs of kaffe and handed him one, gesturing towards the single small couch.  Luke sat carefully on a diagonal.  Poe sprawled with one leg on the cushion.  His knee brushed Luke’s thigh. 

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Luke started but Poe waved this aside.  “Are you kidding?”  He laughed.  “Between your young padawan and my mission schedule, it’s a wonder you caught me today.” 

 

Luke laughed as well, and then considered the implications of Poe’s jest.  “Are you leaving again soon?” he asked between sips of kaffe.  Poe still brewed the best he’d tasted, dark and rich with just the right amount of bitterness.  The ever-present shadow in Luke’s chest lightened by a fraction more, and he decided that even if Poe had to take off within the hour, he was glad he had come.

 

“Actually,” Poe drew the word out slowly and took a sip out of his own mug, a warm ochre color that Luke absently remembered was Poe’s favorite.  “I have a few days of leave coming up.” 

 

Luke’s heart started to pound pleasantly as Poe carefully looked anywhere but at him.  “I know it’s been awhile and all, but I don’t suppose you would care to join me for dinner tonight?”  Poe’s gaze finally settled back on his own mug of kaffe, where he found something intensely interesting in its depths.

 

Gears and cogs turned in Luke’s mind at light speed, helpfully churning out all the varied reasons that would be a terrible idea.  For once, by some fleeting grace, he ignored them.  “I would love to,” he said quietly.  When Poe turned to him with a shocked expression Luke half expected him to revoke the invitation out of sheer surprise.  Then Poe’s unquenchable grin spread across his face, and Luke could only grin back. 

 

They spent the rest of the day and most of the night just talking, catching up on each other’s lives over the intervening years.  When they went out for dinner, by some twist of the Force (either cruel or kind Luke couldn’t decide) they were seated at the precise table they had sat at some ten years ago when they had last dared to share a meal together. 

 

Luke let Poe order for them both, marveling at his casual confidence and the ease with which he charmed everyone in their vicinity.  Luke was fairly certain half of the food placed in front of them was on the house from the way the wait-staff incessantly winked at them both, but he didn’t object, just reveled in the moment, in the feeling of being out with Poe, even in the smiles cast their way from other tables.

 

He did protest, though, when Poe somehow absconded with an entire bottle of Sacorrian wine as they left, but later in Poe’s quarters he was grateful to be on his second glass of the stuff before Poe relayed the story of his capture by the First Order.  Luke had known something of the capture and subsequent rescue as told by Finn, but he hadn’t realized Kylo Ren’s role nor the extent of his torture of Poe. 

 

Luke stood staring out the window for a long time afterwards until Poe finally came up, wrapped his arms around him from behind.  “Hey,” he whispered into Luke’s neck, and Luke shivered at the warmth of his breath.  “It’s okay.  I’m okay.” 

 

Luke turned in Poe’s embrace, placing his hands on either side of Poe’s face.  “But you so very nearly weren’t.  If Finn hadn’t rescued you when he did…”  Luke trailed off, shaking his head helplessly. 

 

“But he did!”  Impossibly, predictably, Poe grinned. 

 

“And what if he hadn’t?”  Luke countered.  The shadow in Luke’s chest quickened and grew, a familiar, dark rage that was entirely self-directed.  “He would have killed you—or worse!  And it would have been all my fault.”  The last words were barely a whisper as Luke looked away, miserable.

 

Poe’s mouth fell open.  “What are you talking about?”  He took Luke’s chin in his hand and lifted Luke’s gaze to meet his own.  “It wasn’t your fault.  It wasn’t,” he repeated when Luke just looked away again.  “Kylo Ren,” Luke flinched at the name, “makes his own choices.  He’s not your fault.” 

 

Luke glanced sideways at Poe.  “Perhaps.  But if I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have been on Jakku in the first place to get captured.”  His mouth twisted bitterly.

 

Poe just snorted.  “Sure, but if you hadn’t left, the First Order would have just found something else to fixate on, and whatever and wherever that was you can bet your smart ass I would have been right in the middle of it trying to stop them.”

 

Poe wrapped him in a hug.  “Face it.  There isn’t anything you could have done.”  Luke nodded and returned Poe’s embrace, and stayed silent.

 

***

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  Luke demanded. 

 

Leia looked up from the reports she was reading and raised her eyebrows.  “Why didn’t I tell you what exactly?”

 

Luke prowled all the way in to her office, pacing like a sand panther.  “You know what.  About Poe’s capture by—”  He made a strangled noise and tried again.  “By the First Order.”

 

She leaned back in her chair and regarded him.  “I’m glad to see the two of you finally got back together.”

 

He stopped and pointed a finger at her accusingly.  “Don’t try to change the subject.”  He started pacing again.

 

Leia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “What good would have come from me telling you all the gory details, hm?”  Luke glared at her choice of words.  “Besides, it wasn’t my story to tell.”

 

Luke finally stopped pacing and slumped into a chair, deflated.  “I know,” he muttered.  “Still.”

 

Leia frowned at him.  “Still what?  You would have liked to start in on the self-loathing and blaming yourself the moment you got here, instead of actually enjoying your life for the first time in years?  No, don’t start.”  Leia held up a hand to silence him the moment he opened his mouth.  “You always do this, Luke.  You take the weight of the whole galaxy upon your shoulders, as if every terrible thing that happens somehow comes back to you.  As important as you are, brother mine, you’re not _that_ important.”  She smiled at the last words to soften their sting. 

 

Luke leaned his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands.  “I know,” he muttered.

 

“Do you?” Leia asked gently. 

 

When he raised his head, the eyes that met hers were haunted.  “Yes.”  He lied.  She knew he lied, and he knew she knew.  She also knew that Luke carried pain the way some people carry a favorite book or memento, and nothing she could say on the matter would convince him otherwise until he made peace with it himself. 

 

He stood silently and left her office.  She stared after him for a long while.


	3. Chapter 3

The nightmares returned on their sixth night together. 

 

Luke woke to Poe thrashing in his sleep, crying out against an invisible enemy.  He didn’t need the Force to sense the fear emanating from the other man.  With the Force, he was hit by a barrage of images: a small village, somewhere in a desert, burning, red flames licking a black sky; the distinct, rhythmic hum of an old Imperial torture droid, its spherical body hovering just out of sight; a black and chrome mask with sightless eyes boring into his skull.  Pain.  So much pain. 

 

“Shhhh, Poe, it’s alright.  I’ve got you.”  He whispered over and over until Poe finally screamed himself awake and clung to Luke, shaking and sweat-drenched. 

 

Poe still clung to him after the shaking stopped and his breathing evened out.  Luke lay awake with him, combing his fingers through Poe’s damp curls until he finally drifted off to sleep again.  Luke silently thanked whatever gods were listening that Poe hadn’t seemed to notice the tears streaming down Luke’s own face, or that Luke was now the one shaking.  He drew in a shuddery breath and pulled Poe closer.  Luke didn’t sleep again that night.

 

In the morning, Poe found him in the kitchen.  Warm light was just starting to slant through the windows while Luke fastidiously set out fruit and sweet breads, a pot of kaffe already burbling away.  Poe yawned as he padded into the room on bare feet, ran a hand through his hair, and hummed appreciatively.  “I’d face nightmares every night if it always meant waking up to a breakfast spread like this.”  The light jest was betrayed by the way Poe kept one eye on Luke, gauging his reaction.

 

To his credit, Luke managed a smile in reply as he finished rinsing a handful of fruit, dried it lightly, and dumped it into a small bowl.  When he spoke his voice was carefully controlled, almost casual.  “How often do you have them?” 

 

“Now and again,” Poe waved dismissively.  “Ooh, when did you get pama berries?”  He scooped up several of the rich red fruit, tried to feed one to Luke. 

 

“Poe,” Luke’s tone brokered no denial, and Poe gave in with a sigh.  “Almost every night,” he admitted, and hurried on when Luke closed his eyes with a pained expression.  “But that was before you were here!  It’s been almost a week since my last one.  I was even starting to think they had finally stopped, with you around to distract me.”  Poe waggled his eyebrows. 

 

Luke, determined to look stern, crossed his arms and covered his mouth with one hand to hide the smile threatening at the corners of his lips.  Poe just threaded his arms through Luke’s folded ones and brazenly planted a kiss on Luke’s nose.  “So before you go blaming yourself, you should know that they’re better when you’re with me.  Everything’s better when you’re with me.” 

 

Faced with Poe’s damned smile, Luke couldn’t help smiling back.  He shooed him away and finished preparing their breakfast, let the conversation drift to lighter things as they ate: Poe’s next mission for Leia, how Rey’s training was progressing, whether Threepio purposefully put off re-finishing that red arm just to have something to complain about.  But underneath it all the darkness in him chewed and worried, replaying the sound of Poe screaming. 

 

***

 

Days blurred into weeks blurred into months. 

 

Luke went through the motions of daily life, both in the command center and on the training ground.  Sometimes Leia or Rey looked at him oddly, as if they wanted to ask him something but weren’t sure what.  Luke pretended not to notice, and each time the moment passed.  Poe was more tenacious but also easier to distract, and Luke was very, very good at distracting Poe.

 

Every day he stayed silent, pushing down the fear and guilt that rose like bile in his throat.  Every day the darkness in him spread a little more.

 

Poe flew mission after mission, gathering valuable intelligence and scoring key victories when skirmishes were unavoidable.  Luke hated sleeping alone when Poe was away; the bed was too big, the room was too quiet, and he lay helpless as the shadows whispered of all his failures.  The only thing worse was when Poe was there and woke shuddering in the night.

 

***

 

Leia found him in his quarters.  The door opened automatically at her chime and closed automatically behind her as she stepped into the darkened rooms.  She pursed her lips, scanning less with her eyes and more with her mind.  She navigated around the furniture effortlessly and stepped lightly over to where he lay on the couch, a darker lump in the dark.  She sat down beside him without a word, settled her hands in her lap.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she spoke.

 

“Rey tells me you haven’t trained with her in a few weeks.”

 

The silence stretched, and for a moment she thought Luke wouldn’t bother to respond.  Then, “I have nothing worth teaching her.”

 

Leia regarded him in the darkness.  “You could teach her a thing or two about self-loathing and why she should avoid it.  Unless you think moping around in the dark for days on end is a good life goal.”

 

Luke huffed and sat up messily, flopping his limbs like a resentful child and throwing his head against the back of the couch.  Leia didn’t dignify this display with a comment. 

 

“I just…”  Luke threw his hands up in the air. 

 

Leia tried to place the feeling she felt radiating off him as his words tumbled out.  “Everything always just falls to pieces in the end.  Why do we bother trying to hold it all together?  The Empire, the First Order, it doesn’t matter what they call themselves.  They will always be there.”  She felt him turn towards her intently.  “Why are we always the ones who have to lead the fight?  Why are we always the ones risking our lives while the rest of the galaxy looks the other way?  Why do we bother with any of it?”

 

Her head tilted in the dark, unsure of his meaning.  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

 

“Of course it is!”  He exploded.  An empty glass on a nearby table fell over.  “But why do we have to be the ones to do it?  Why do we have to carry that burden?” 

 

Leia felt the weight of that burden in his voice as the feeling in the room she hadn’t been able to name clicked over in her mind.  Luke had lost hope.  She closed her eyes sadly.  He was exhausted, she realized.  Exhausted from the weight of simply being himself.  The entire galaxy knew the name of Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and Savior of the Galaxy, but most forgot that behind that grand title was just a man like any other, subject to doubt and insecurity, who tried to do his best but couldn’t escape the fear that his best would never be enough.

 

She waited until his breathing calmed, then reached out and took his hand.  “We carry it because we can.”  She felt more than saw his head jerk towards her.  “People like you, like me, hell, like anyone here with gumption enough to join up with us, we’re called to something greater than ourselves because we can be.  Because we have the capacity to see through to the end what others can’t, or won’t.  Is that fair?  Maybe not.  But life doesn’t offer us the luxury of fairness.”

 

More silence met her words, but she could sense Luke uncoiling from around himself, so she continued.  “This melancholy you cling to is another luxury.”  A shift in the darkness.  She kept her tone gentle, light.  “It’s much easier to wallow in self-pity than to expend effort for change.  And that’s only natural.”  She hurried on before he could get defensive.  “It requires energy to overcome inertia.  Doing nothing is easy.  And you remember what your small, green friend said about the quick and easy path.”  She smiled as her reference had the desired effect, and Luke huffed a soft laugh.  “There’s a reason the dark side is quicker and easier: it comes at a price that’s far too high.  It’s a luxury only.  No substance, not really.” 

 

Leia felt Luke take a deep breath next to her and had a sudden image of a broken crystal, the pieces held in place tightly but the cracks still apparent.  “In my mind, I agree with everything you’ve said.  I know these phantoms I fear are just that.  But in my heart…”  Luke shifted and laid his head in her lap.  “I don’t want to feel this way.  But I don’t know how to stop.”

 

“I know.”  Leia ran her fingers through his hair and let him cry.

 

***

 

The empty space next to Luke woke him.  His mind felt hazy, and the outlines of objects seemed to run together.  He shook his head and reached out instinctively, searching for the body that had lain next to him while his mind struggled to wake up.  The mattress was still warm.  He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and casting his gaze around the room until he found the shadowy silhouette by the window, dark against the dawn light. 

 

He rose from the bed, legs unsteady as the room seemed to swim, and managed to tread carefully over to the window.  “Another nightmare?” he asked, reaching for the shoulder of the man in front of him.  The figure didn’t turn at his touch.  His skin was cold beneath Luke’s hand, and Luke felt an answering shiver run down his spine.

 

“Yes.”  The voice that replied was raspy, broken as if from disuse…or screaming.  “Yours.”  Poe Dameron finally turned around and glared balefully at Luke.  Luke backed away in horror, unable to breathe.  Poe’s face was battered, bruised, and bloody tears poured from his eyes.  “Look what he did to me.  Look what Kylo Ren did to me.  He killed me, Luke.  And it’s all your fault.”

 

“No.”  Luke shook his head, still backing away.  Poe was alive, had been moments ago.  He fell when the backs of his knees hit the bed, and the figure that couldn’t be Poe loomed over him accusingly.  “It is your fault.  What he did to me.  What he’s done to everyone.  All the pain he’s inflicted, countless beings murdered.  You trained him.  You should have known.  You should have stopped him.  Everything is your fault.”

 

As Poe spoke, the room seemed to fill with phantoms, wraith-like ghosts who circled and pointed at Luke accusingly.  Their faces whirled past him: Owen, Beru, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Anakin, Han, his students, pilots whose missions he helped coordinate, a hundred nameless others whose deaths he had caused in some way, all echoing the same words.  “Your fault.  Your fault.  Your fault.” 

 

Luke shook his head.  “No.”  This wasn’t real.  “No.”  His denial only seemed to make the ghosts more furious, their chanting growing louder.  His fault.  The figure that was Not Poe shifted in front of him, the dark curls morphing into a helmet he recognized too well.  His fault.  The front of the helmet was blown away, and Luke’s own face stared back at him, an evil snarl twisting his features into a sick, triumphant smile.  His fault.  Everything was his fault.  He knew that.  His fault.  Of course he knew that.  His fault.  But this couldn’t be real.  His fault.  Could it?  His fault.  He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists to his ears.  His fault.  “NO!”

 

***

 

Luke awoke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard, heart pounding in his chest.  He knew he was really awake this time.  Objects didn’t lack their normal crispness, and he choked back a sob in relief, sinking into the weight of reality. 

 

Next to him, Poe Dameron shifted, turning to find a more comfortable position, a familiar smile on his lips even in sleep. 

 

Luke couldn’t help it.  He burst into tears, remembering the awful specter from his dreams, the awful Poe-who-might-have-been if he hadn’t escaped from Kylo Ren, if he hadn’t…

 

Luke took a steadying breath, unable to bear the thought of that beautiful face marred by torture, and at the hands of his own former student no less.  The ghosts had been right; he should have known.  Should have done something to prevent Kylo Ren’s rise to power.  Everything he touched always crumbled.  How foolish he had been to think otherwise.  He hadn’t been able to save either Ben or Han.  He was only kidding himself if he thought he could save Rey or Poe.  His presence was a threat to them.

 

He reached out, smoothing an errant curl at Poe’s temple.  The sleeping man leaned into his touch, and Luke’s heart stuttered painfully.  He could not—would not—let any harm come to Poe, not if he could help it.  He knew what he had to do.

 

***

 

The empty space next to Poe woke him.  He reached out, searching for the body that had lain next to his, and frowned when he found the mattress cold.  He sat up, ran a hand over his face, feeling an eerie sense of déjà vu.  Something was wrong. 

 

The room felt too empty, like something was irrevocably missing.  He leapt from the bed, pulling on a pair of soft pants.  He glared at the blinking light on the comm indicating there was a message waiting, strode past it to the window.  He scanned the ships outside, heart pounding in his throat, hoping he was wrong.  But he wasn’t.  He fell against the glass heavily, leaning his head on his arm as his clenched fist pounded the pane in frustration.  Out of all the X-wings lined up below, Luke Skywalker’s ship and its pilot were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Warm wind rustled through the tall grass in the meadow where Luke Skywalker lay staring up at the sky.  White clouds drifted overhead, changing shape and size across a blue jewel of sky.  He closed his eyes and let the sun warm him, listening to the blessed silence.  As long as he lay right here, in this moment, nothing could go wrong. 

 

Days or maybe just minutes passed, he couldn’t be sure which.  Either way, he wasn’t really surprised when he felt the slight shift in pressure from another ship entering the atmosphere.  He listened to the sound of it descend and land in the valley where his fighter sat, imagined all the wildflowers waving their bright heads in the air displaced by the ship.

 

He made no move to rise or any other acknowledgement that he was no longer alone.  He knew how long it took to walk from the valley to the top of the ridge where he lay.  He had a few more minutes to himself.  He concentrated on the feeling of the sun on his face, pretending for as long as he could that everything could go away, that he wouldn’t have to pick back up all the burdens he had laid aside in his mind.

 

He didn’t open his eyes when Poe finally joined him, puffing a bit from the climb.  Poe didn’t say a word either, just flopped down next to him in the grass.  The tips of their elbows barely touched with their hands folded behind their heads.  Luke listened to the sound of Poe’s breath evening out and thought he had never been happier or more miserable than he was in that moment.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

Poe snorted.  “Are you kidding?  After losing you the first time, Leia had me install a hidden tracking device on your ship within an hour of your arrival at the base.”

 

Luke thought back to that first morning, the secretive nods, Poe slipping off towards his X-wing.  Of course, Leia wouldn’t take any chances.  Luke smiled and found he didn’t really mind.  “I suppose I deserved that.”

 

“You really, really did.”  The fondness in Poe’s voice belied his concern.  Luke wanted to fly in the face of it, to tell Poe he was better off as far away from him as possible, but he stayed put, soaking up the sun, noting absently that clouds were gathering on the horizon.  This liminal moment might be all they had.  Poe just waited, letting Luke feel his presence beside him without pushing for anything else. 

 

“You want to know why I ran away again.”  It was a statement, not a question, and an obvious one at that.  It was also something Luke needed to say out loud, to acknowledge the action for what it was.  Poe turned toward him in the grass but otherwise didn’t respond. 

 

Luke sighed and frowned at the sky.  “I’m just a washed-up old man.  No good to anyone.”  The bitterness in Luke’s voice cut like a blade and was entirely self-directed.

 

Poe’s forehead crinkled.  “Aside from not being true, I’m not sure what that has to do with it.  You have so much to offer, even now.  You are worth so much.  To everyone.”  Softer.  “To me.”

 

Luke sighed again, and Poe could practically see the older man curl in upon himself, walls going up not for protection but as self-punishment, blocking out his concern.  “I’m just a selfish coward.  Always have been.  Always running away.”  Luke sat up suddenly, brow furrowed as he ticked things off on his fingers.  “I ran away from my aunt and uncle.  I thought I was too good for their simple life, that I was meant for something better.  When they died, because of me, I ran away from the entire planet.”  Poe sat up quietly while Luke spoke, knees drawn up to his chest.  “I ran away from Yoda when I got impatient with his training.  Look what that got me.”  Luke held up his right hand bitterly.  “I ran away from my friends on Endor, let them face the Imperial fleet alone while I went on a fool’s quest to save my father.”  Luke’s voice was growing shakier, but Poe didn’t dare move, hardly dared to breathe.  “And I ran away again when Kylo Ren destroyed everything.  I let him kill H—”  Luke choked on the name, eyes squeezing shut.  “If I had been there maybe I could have…” 

 

“Hey, it’s okay.”  Poe wrapped his arms around Luke before the older man could stop him, hugging him tightly.  “It’s okay.”  Luke leaned into the embrace, and Poe wondered how long the man had suffered with this guilt in silence.  Then he remembered the haunted eyes that sometimes met his on early mornings, half-awake, and thought he could wager a guess.  From somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled and the sun slipped behind a dark grey cloud.

 

When Luke finally stopped shuddering, Poe pulled back slightly, looking him in the eye.  “That was a pretty monologue and all, but you know what?  None of that is your fault.  There isn’t anything you could have done about any of those things.”  Luke opened his mouth to protest, so Poe placed his hand gently over Luke’s lips and barreled on.  “There isn’t!  It probably isn’t my place to speak about things that happened before I was born, but if the stories my parents told were anywhere close to the truth, you were—are—not a coward.”  He removed his hand when Luke made no move to contradict him and went to work dismantling his arguments.  “Your aunt and uncle?  They knew the risk taking you in the moment Obi-Wan Kenobi brought you to them as an infant.  You felt like you were meant for something better than moisture farming because you were!  If you had stayed on Tatooine, where would the galaxy be now?  Still under Imperial rule?  Or how about if Rey had just stayed on Jakku?”  Luke grudgingly gave a wry smile at that.  “And as for Yoda, the way I heard it, you left to help your friends, not to abandon the training.  You weren’t giving up; you were making a stand for what you thought was right.  That’s not cowardice.  Even if it all went pretty terribly, you didn’t sacrifice what you believed in just because some dried up green gnome told you to.  Aren’t you always telling Rey not to follow your instructions blindly but to think for herself?  And I don’t know what you’re talking about with the Battle of Endor, because everyone, and I mean everyone, knows that if you hadn’t been exactly where you were, occupying Vader’s and the Emperor’s attentions, the entire battle would have gone very differently.” 

 

Poe stopped for breath while Luke looked stunned.  “And as for Kylo Ren.”  His throat caught on the name and he swallowed thickly.  He didn’t miss that Luke’s eyes went all watery again, too.  “You know I have plenty of reasons to hate him.  But that’s just it.  His actions are on him.  Not you.  Not Han or Leia.  Not anyone else.  Just him.  He made his choices, and now he’s facing the consequences of them.  That’s something that not even you could have stopped or protected him from.  His actions are on him.”  He repeated, making sure he held Luke’s gaze and that the Jedi heard him. 

 

“So yeah, maybe you do tend to run away on occasion.”  Poe looked around at their current surroundings for emphasis.  “If that’s how you see it, I can’t really argue with you.  But you know how I see it?”  Poe’s gaze returned to Luke and the fondness in it took his breath away.  “You always come back.  Every time.  In the final showing, you’re always there when it matters.” 

 

Luke closed his eyes against the force of Poe’s words, almost unable to stand the sheer, unconditional love radiating off the man, and directed at him, of all beings.  Poe’s love was both a lifeline and an anchor, holding him steady but also threatening to drag him under from the weight of responsibility of living up to it. 

 

Poe seemed to sense his doubt because he shook his shoulder gently.  “No, don’t do that.  Don’t go turning in on yourself because you think you don’t deserve this.  Maybe you don’t.” 

 

Luke’s eyes opened in surprise, and he found Poe’s expression had turned thoughtful.  “Wouldn’t the universe be a sad place if everyone only ever got what they deserved?”  Poe exhaled heavily while those words clicked in Luke’s mind. 

 

Then Poe’s sunny smile was on him again.  “But it isn’t.  And good things really do happen to good people, even washed up old wizards who don’t believe in themselves.”  He chuckled softly, and Luke was startled to hear an answering laugh from his own throat. 

 

Poe took both of Luke’s hands in his own.  “I can’t know what you’re going through, what you’ve been through, or what it must have cost you.  But I do know one thing.  When the dark closes in on you, when you feel like all the light’s gone?  I’ll be right there, fighting for you and me.”

 

Something like light was forming in Luke’s chest, an ember blown to flame cradled in careful hands, and he wondered just when he had lost the vibrant hope that was so alive in Poe.  Above them, the sun broke out from behind the clouds. 

 

“So.”  Poe got to his feet, dusted off his trousers, and reached a hand down to Luke.  “Will you come home with me?”

 

***

 

No one watched the two ships complete their landing maneuvers.  It was the middle of the afternoon.  Staff went about their daily work with hardly a glance spared at the two starfighters as they settled side by side on the tarmac.

 

Poe Dameron eyed Luke Skywalker from the cockpit of his X-wing and pointedly left the engines powered up, ready to take off again at a moment’s notice if the other panicked and bolted.  Luke grinned over at him, hands up in surrender.  Poe still didn’t power down until Luke opened the cockpit canopy and started to descend.

 

Poe practically leapt from his fighter, ignoring the ladder altogether.  He ducked under the nose of his X-wing, one hand skimming the side of the ship as he all but skipped to Luke’s side.

 

Luke stood awkwardly beside his own ship as if unsure what to do.  He glanced around curiously, wondering why there wasn’t more of a fuss.  There should probably have been a fuss.  Poe threw an arm around his shoulder and led him towards the compound.  “We’ve only been gone a few days, you know,” he said by way of explanation.  “Most people probably just assume we were on a mission for the General.”

 

Luke considered this and then realized even his sister was nowhere to be seen.  Poe laughed at his expression, guessing his thoughts.  “I don’t think she wants to see you right now.” 

 

Luke laughed in return, his first true laugh in what felt like ages.  “You’re probably right.”

 

(Poe was right.  She refused to even talk to Luke for two whole days.  But she did send a whole case of Saccorian wine to Poe.)

 

They made it a few more steps before Luke faltered.  Poe paused beside him, peering sideways at Luke’s expression.

 

“Poe…”  Luke’s eyes were slightly wild and his tone pleading.  “I don’t know if I can do this.” 

 

Poe could feel the anxiety in him like a living thing.  He turned to face the other man.  “Do what?”

 

Luke waved his arm in a broad motion that took in himself, Poe, the base, the sky.

 

Poe raised an eyebrow.  “You just gestured at everything.”  Luke lifted his hands and made a face as if to say, “Exactly.”

 

Poe couldn’t help it.  He laughed.  It was an unexpected noise, and it startled Luke enough to disrupt the runaway train of his thoughts, restore some perspective.  His lips tilted in a tentative, answering smile.

 

“Sure you can.”  Poe linked his arm through Luke’s and steered him towards their quarters.  “And I’ll be right beside you, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I sit, happily playing in the trash compactor. I have to give a shout out to StanleyQuinn, whose fic Diasterism introduced to me to this ship. If you haven’t read it yet, go and do that. I’ll wait.
> 
> I portray Luke as suffering from some pretty major anxiety and depression, and my intention was to explore how someone like THE Luke Skywalker might cope (or not) with those. While I have experience with both, I certainly can’t speak for everyone who lives with either one; feel free to hit me up in the comments if you have any questions or concerns about my depiction of it.
> 
> For those of you keeping score at home, I think canonically Poe should be about 28 and Luke about 52 in The Force Awakens. My head-canon for this story is that Luke went into exile about 10 years prior to TFA, when Poe was 18 and he was 42. There’s still quite an age difference, but there it is. 
> 
> I hope y’all enjoyed this little character study! Comments are life! MTFBWY!


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